


December 23, 2019

by theroomstops



Series: Home For Christmas [2]
Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Tree, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28262061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroomstops/pseuds/theroomstops
Summary: Driving home for Christmas, I can't wait to see those faces...________________________David and Julia have gone to Scotland to celebrate Christmas, and it’s time to decorate their very first real Christmas tree. Making new memories together and still finding time for each other.
Relationships: David Budd/Julia Montague
Series: Home For Christmas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067747
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46
Collections: LavenderBudd Fic Exchange





	December 23, 2019

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started this for the LavenderBudd Fic Exchange in 2019, for fightuntilyoucan. The wishlist I was given asked for ‘fluff, smut and jealous Julia’. And I was asked not to include ‘angst, David/Julia fight’. 
> 
> I wasn't able to finish this last year, and this year I have been so bad at posting. I've missed writing for them terribly, so here is what I started last year, the day after they've arrived on their road trip to Scotland. I hope, really hope, that you all enjoy it. Happy Holidays!
> 
> I also wanted to say: This year has been so, so hard and I want to send my love to everyone, and especially those of you who work on the front lines, who have to be out there now that it's so scary in so many parts of the world. I love you, I worry for you and I hope we all get to see a little bit of normalcy soon. (Especially to my friend Jamie, who is a medic, has endless patience with me and who didn't beg, not once, for this fic, even though she knew it was just lying around unfinished. Some people got you a Bartlet administration, and all I got you was this finished fic.)

_December 23rd, 2019_

“It doesn’t even look real. David, have you seen this view?” Julia shakes her head and turns to David, shivering slightly and wrapping her arms around herself as she fights off the lingering chill in the bedroom. He’d closed the windows earlier upon her request and returned from the living room now with a thick blanket to find her admiring the views from the massive windows of their beautiful holiday cottage. 

Even the thick socks and the long, soft blush cashmere robe she’s brought from home won’t beat off the biting cold from having the windows open all night. Though it did make him feel back at home right away. Cold in Scotland and cold in London are just not the same thing. Nipping at his nose as he lay in bed next to her last night and felt the soft lulls of sleep overtake him. Though maybe a little too chilly for a woman he regularly finds nose deep in a thick duvet at home.

“Aye, I’ve seen it.” He smiles to himself as he watches her, wide eyed and peeking around at the vista in front of them. Looking onto the snow clad mountain tops and frosty patio with curious eyes. He’s a little proud, really, because Julia’s not new to snow. It’s not as if this is her first experience with it. Her family spent every New Years week in the Alps since she was a little girl until she went off with friends on her own at 16. So despite what David himself would describe as lackluster parenting, she’s not unfamiliar with the white blanket outside. It’s the place that’s impressing her. His Scotland. 

David wraps the blanket around her and holds it up with the presence of him standing behind her. Wrapping her up tightly. His lips ghosting along the side of her face as he nibbles one cold earlobe. Julia’s cold hands wrap over his as she squeezes in tighter, and he presses his lips to her neck as he tries to warm her up. “You know, my uncle Laird used to have a little fishing hut right nearby.”

“There’s nowhere to fish, David.” Julia chuckles lightly as he caresses two freezing cold hands.

“Aye, exactly.” Her head turns to him, shades of confusion coloring her otherwise rather tranquil face, and he playfully shakes it off with a shrug and a tiny smile.

It’s a family thing. An inside joke mocking his uncle’s various crazy ideas and what seemed like excuses to shy away from the normal life his family begged him to adhere to. Though as David has later found himself thinking, maybe he was really just trying to get away from all of them. 

He quickly explains it all to Julia. She should know the story. She’s his family too now. So he tells her of tasting beer at the age of 8 and walking for hours in muddy terrain and rain because he lost his sense of direction around these parts at the age of 12. And then he paints her a vividly visual image of the goodbye ceremony his uncle held before he burned said fishing hut to the ground and went off to marry to the lady next door the next day. Never one for doing what was expected of him.

Julia laughs softly at some of his childhood tales as they sway there gently in front of the window, both of them picturing each memory as he speaks of it. David nuzzles his nose against her cheek, it’s finally warm again now, and then heaves a deep sigh before he lets her go. 

“Alright, let’s bundle up, love,” His eyes sparkle as he looks at her excitedly. “Brave the cold.”

“David, it’s freezing out there,” She protests loudly and he merely shrugs. “what would you possibly want to go outside for? We’ve even brought groceries. We have everything we need here.”

“Just trust me, will ye?” His brow lifts in a playfully devious way and she looks at him through suspicious eyes as he walks out of the bedroom, calling for her to join him. 

Which she does. 

After a bit more protest.

_______________

Julia Montague is **cold**. Right to her very core. The beautiful down parka that she dug out of storage the fifth time David asked if she’d bought a winter jacket yet is doing an admirable job. It’s not its fault it probably should have been long left in the past and replaced with something that wasn’t 20 years old, well worn and usually worn over layers and layers of ski gear. Yes, definitely regretting not taking David up on his offer to brave London shopping streets with her and find her a new one. 

But she hadn’t been ready. Still feeling a little precarious and cautious in her new day to day situation, and so she’d dug into her old box of winter equipment instead. 

David, meanwhile, looks happy as a fucking (but probably frozen, he has to be in this cold weather, right?) clam right now as he walks excitedly by her side. He has led her through the little village that was the closest to their cottage. Her cold hand safely nestled in his and just about the only part of her that feels a little warm at the moment. They stop occasionally to talk to people. All strangers to her, but often someone he seems to have known once upon a time. She’s noticed that he’s (kindly) not introducing her until he’s got an excuse for them to leave. 

She still wobbles in public. She’s uncomfortable with how well people know her now. And so despite the fact that he loathes attention, he’s clearly making sure to keep it on him now. Chatting politely, introducing her as his new whatever and then swiftly move the two of them along down the snowy, wintery decorated street. David is very good in a storm. Which is exactly what it feels like now, except the wind seems to be barely registering to everyone else and the trees are not even moving an inch. Thankfully the sun has turned up for her unwilling venture outside and it warms her cold cheeks ever so slightly.

She thinks she can see their stop though. There’s a grinning salesman walking amongst a small forest of, granted, wonderfully smelling _Christmas trees_. David’s grin has grown wider than it was when she last looked at him, and there’s an extra bounce in his step as he pulls on her hand.

_“I’m not being a grinch, David, I just think it’s pointless for us to take a perfectly good tree, put it in a cottage we don’t own and then it just rots there. We don’t have any decorations or lights, and we’ll be at your mother’s for most of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We’d barely see it.” Julia huffs as she sets her wine glass on the counter._

_“Mmhm. Grinch.” David snorts as he steals her wine glass for a sip and shoots her a brilliant smile to prove his point._

He’s looking childishly happy now. Excitedly shaking hands with the salesman and squeezing his mitten clad hands together gleefully as he takes in the tiny forest in front of them. 

“David, no…”

“Aye, Julia. I think we should start our own traditions, love.” She’s not even opened her mouth before he effectively shoots down what she was going to suggest. “Next year, yes, I know what you said... but why wait a whole year when we can do it this year?” And at that terribly simple retort, she’s a bit stumped. 

Not to mention, a little annoyed at how well he knows her. Especially when it means she loses a discussion. Which she is quite obviously doing right now. 

“Full disclosure,” His eyes sparkle, and somehow his accent seems to have gotten a lot thicker since they arrived last night. “I wanted to bring you out to the woods and chop down our own, but you were already going to say it was unnecessary, so the idea of us trekking out with all the equipment and you fighting me all the way... it’s a little silly, love.” She rolls her eyes as he stands there next to the Christmas trees, hands on hips, looking awfully sure of himself, and verging on downright (and deliciously, damn him) cocky. “So this... is a compromise, see?”

“Getting a Christmas tree when I’ve said no and you’ve said yes is not any sort of a compromise, David.” She fires back, with a renewed sense of energy even as she knows she is definitely leaving this merry lot with a tree of their own. And then she sighs at the thought of the shedding and the arguing over which bauble goes where and which topper to put on. Closing her eyes in defeat and taking another deep breath.

“Give me one good reason that is not the fact that we’re only here for a few days or that we haven’t got anything to put on it.” He looks at her, smug and amused as she fails to come up with one on the spot. Her lips purse and she can see his mouth slowly forming into a well pleased smile. Damn him, and his stupidly charming face. “Ha! You can’t.”

“A _small_ one.” She warns. David dances towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck and the massive scarf that surrounds it. Fighting a bit against the woolen material until his lips find her skin. “Not a medium. Certainly not a large one.”

“That’s very unlike you. You usually prefer things in a large.” He whispers against her lips as the cold nips at his ears. He kisses her neck and pulls back to look at her with a withering glance, and finds her lips curl into a smile.

“Cocky.” She pulls his wayward hat back down while kissing his cold lips lazily.

“And yet... very true.” David winks and pats her backside playfully as he goes back to the tree he’s stared at since they arrived. 

It’s perfect. At least he thinks it is. A little prickly, sure, but beautiful and full of character. Imperfectly perfect just the way he remembers all his childhood Christmas trees looking.

“David, we don’t even have any decorations for this poor tree, it’ll look so bare.” She’s making a good effort to avoid going home with this tree, he has to admit. And he knows there are reasons she doesn’t love the holidays like he does, but he’s not giving up until she’s moved at least from full on Grinch to moderately annoyed. Because he also knows she’s never experienced Christmas and the magic of a well decorated tree the way they should be, so he is determined to introduce her to it.

“Fear not. I’ve smuggled along some of my old Christmas baubles.” Julia rolls her eyes. Of course he had. “Charlie and Ella painted some a few years ago, and they made some last year to put on that plant I decorated in my flat, remember?”

“Yes, Bushy. I do remember him. Poor thing didn’t quite make it to Boxing Day.” 

_Bushy._

_That poor fig leaf tree he’d bought at IKEA while trying to make his dingy flat seem a little less sad for when Julia or the kids were over, and that three of them attempted to put baubles on last year. He’d been a gorgeous little fiddly leafed thing. So they’d enthusiastically (well, eventually) wrapped him in twinkly lights and some odd-looking sparkly tinsel, before Charlie named him the most accurate thing he could think of. But between cold winter air and warm central heating, Bushy quickly started to drop his leaves and eventually all they were left with was drooping lights and tinsel decorating rotting soil. Bushy lost his vigor too soon and David had quickly sworn to have a proper tree the next year._

“Aye, he looked quite sad at the end. And next year, we might be decorating a big tree in our own house, who knows? So I got us some new ones to start _our_ new tradition too.” Despite her instinct to not want anything to do with this tree, Julia’s heart fills with appreciation. And as much as she wishes it was over something else, it’s hard to argue with him when he’s so full of cheer. Smiling as he is, eyes sparkling as they catch the sun and making her really want to _want_ to decorate a tree… if nothing else. “There’s one with your name on it. Guess which color it is? Guess.”

A smile fills her face and David celebrates quietly, as he pulls on her hand and envelopes her in his arms.

“You are a ridiculous man.” She pushes gently against his chest as he presses another kiss to her lips.

“Pay for our tree, please? I’ve got a few other choices if you want to help me pick, but I really think this one is our tree, love.”

“No. You can pay for your own tree. I’ll help decorate it.” And then she adds... under her breath, though loud enough that he can hear her and know he was meant to. “If there’s something in it for me.”

“Aye there is. Snacky bits. And mulled wine. And Christmas chocolates. I’ve thought of everything.” He stands proudly with his hand around the stem of his favorite bloody tree, and a small part of her feels like it melts. He’s done that since the start. Slowly melted the icicles that had protected her heart. Challenged her without demeaning and taken over the job of looking after her worn, broken being. Caused complete and utter upheaval in the routine and empty shell that made up their separate lives, and somehow made her all the better for it.

Julia Montague does not melt. Does not bend lightly. Does not do anything because she’s told. Does not change unless she decides to, with a thorough, carefully weighed reason. Not for anyone except him.

“You are insistent on making me enjoy Christmas.” Julia accuses lovingly, and David smirks.

“Away for the holidays with the man you love. That calls for some Christmas spirit.” He’s on a roll today, making point after point. She sighs and looks at the tree carefully before she finally nods.

“Yes. You’re right. Fine, we’ll get this tree. But you’ll need one of those things to put it in.”

“A foot.” Julia looks at him oddly. “A tree stand. To keep it standing. I’ve already got one.” David shakes his head with a laugh. “Why do you think it took me an hour to pack up the car this morning? I’ve been planning this ambush for a while, love.” 

And at that, her mouth hangs agape. She looks at him in wonderment as he looks around the lot, smirking at her confidently while he shakes his regrettably beautiful tree and admires it up close. “I learned from the best.”

_____________________

Finally.

A steaming hot shower has done wonders for all the half-frozen parts of her body. She looks in the mirror and sees the pinkish warmth in her cheeks and can absolutely confirm that despite its bone chilling winds, this holiday is doing her as much good as her favorite Scot has. She can’t ever remember spending as much time walking in the snow as she has today, or laughing as much despite her cold limbs, though if he suggests she’s enjoying the cold white flakes she’ll protest it.

It’s doing David a lot of good too. He’s endlessly proud to be showing her around the areas where he spent his childhood, and the accent seems to be growing thicker by the hour. He’s using all kinds of words she’s never even even heard before. And she’s heard far more stories about frogs than she’d ever care to, but he’s happy. And in the end, his happiness is the most precious thing in the world to her. 

She rubs more fragrant lotion into her winter-parched skin as she hears soft tunes and thuds from the next room. Runs a brush through her hair quickly and pulls it into a messy low bun. The snow begins to fall again outside the window, and she dabs some lip balm on chapped lips (reasons she _doesn’t_ like winter) and follows the sounds of ‘Rocking Around The Christmas Tree’ until she’s standing behind a jerking David as he unpacks one of the boxes he’d hidden under their coats and other belongings yesterday.

Not that she could ever be accused of not appreciating his finely cared for physique, but she’s got a whole new admiration for it now as he slides over the hardwood floors in big, fuzzy socks his children gave him and a horridly over the top Christmas sweater with tiny bells on. Though she’s most grateful for a pair of jeans surely sent from the gods for all its doing to his thighs and backside.

_Rocking around the Christmas tree  
Have a happy holidays  
Everyone dancin' merrily the new old-fashioned way_

His butt is rocking and his arms waving and his lips mouthing the lyrics to the song as he dances animatedly across the floor to a thoroughly apt Christmas jingle. She pulls her phone from her pocket and decides to start her New Years resolution early. Take more pictures. And what could be a better start than her lover clearly having lost his mind? If nothing else, she’ll send it to Ella and give the children a good laugh over their silly dad.

A giggle slips a bit too early and he turns at the sound of her presence, smirking a bit when he notices her standing there with her phone pointed in his direction.

“You filming me, Scorsese?” His brow perks and his lips curl as he flirtingly points to her phone in action.

“Yes, I had to document the peculiar Christmas elf that seems to have taken over the beautiful and otherwise _calm_ cottage I’m in.” She teases back.

“Wide format and everything.” He nods, eyebrows lifting as he stares at Julia, amused. “Why don’t you come help me instead, Coppola?”

David holds out a messy bundle of Christmas lights with a smile and she rolls her eyes, leaving her phone on the sofa as she joins him by the tree and sneaks a peek into the boxes he’s smuggled in. Julia holds onto the lights, looking at David annoyed as he unfurls it slowly and forms it around the tree. He’s usually so firm and decisive, but nothing about the droopy mess that is the current situation of their tree speaks of his usual finesse. She redoes it quickly as David goes to grab the wine, though it barely makes a difference and looks sloppy all the same.

Over the next hour, David moves rapidly from one classic Christmas song to the next, taking Julia on a journey she’s never imagined for herself, having avoided Christmas music as much as possible as long as she’s been an adult. From Rudolph having a red nose, much like herself, to a surprisingly cuddly rendition of ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’. Equal parts sweet and slightly motion sickness inducing as he rocks back and forth with her in his arms while he sings his heart out. He hangs each bauble haphazardly on the tree as he slides around it on slippery socks and croons happily while she watches him closely.

And so it goes. David takes a bauble from the box, holds it up and shares a lovely sentiment or fact about each and every one, before he hangs it quickly and moves onto the next while Julia takes the ornament off and moves it to where she has calculated it should be. When he moves onto the tinsel, and literally throws some onto the poor, unsuspecting tree, she can no longer hold her tongue.

“David, at least do it properly.” Julia remarks curtly.

“About an hour ago, you didn’t even want this tree.” He doesn’t seem to have taken her firm tone to heart. A teasing smile on his lips as he tosses more tinsel onto the branches with intentional, playful and childish defiance.

“Well, if we are going to have one, it can at the very least _look_ nice. Let’s not just throw things on there as if we’re seven.”

“Please,” David smarts and chuckles, playfully rolling his eyes as he fastens another ornament on a small branch. “My decorating skills are no more than that of a four year old.”

“I’ll have to agree.” She cocks her head, finally teasing him back at the sight of a stray piece of tinsel hanging down his forehead, adding a small gray streak in his soft curls.

“Hey...” He places the tinsel back in the box and wraps his arms around her waist as he rests his cheek on her shoulder. Nuzzling his soft lips against her warm neck as he traces a lazy pattern on her skin. “Do you like our first Christmas tree?”

“Begrudgingly, yes.” David coughs behind her shoulder so he won’t laugh, hiding his amusement as she swiftly moves on. “But I’d like it more if you let me decide what goes where.”

“Fine,” He kisses her temple and picks up another pair of ornaments. “Tell me where to put what.”

\--------

“I have to admit, this looks far more pleasing than I expected it to.” Julia studies the tree she’s carefully rearranged into less of a Picasso, and more of a Monet. If Monet had painted Christmas trees.

“Our very own, gorgeous Christmas tree. Well done, love.” He presses his lips against hers, bunching her curly bun in his fist as he pulls her closer with his free hand. “Does it make you feel festive?”

“I,” She begins, her lip twitching as her eyes narrow and she looks towards the tree and then back at him. “Refuse to answer that question.”

“It does! My sneaky plan made you feel festive!” She silences him with a kiss. Her lips dance upon his and for a minute she makes him forget all about his tree. Until he catches a glimpse of it in the corner of his eye and whispers triumphantly against her lips. “Aye, the Grinch has left the cottage.”

Julia rolls her eyes, moving to pick at a few branches as she stares at it wistfully. “The last time I decorated a Christmas tree I almost got divorced on the spot.” Her voice drops as she takes a good look at the tree close up. “How we were still married five years after that I’ll never know, but it hasn’t been a nice memory.”

“But this is nice, yeah?” He tries to lighten the mood with a tiny smile. Holding back as much as he can the will to rage at the mention of her asshole of an ex-husband. A man that still insults him at every gathering they’re unlucky enough to bump into him at. Fuck Roger Penhaligon, and his dismissive, total inability to be a good anything. Although come to think of it, he does somewhat remind David of the Grinch.

“Mmm.” She hums as he pulls her closer.

“Christmas music on. Fuzzy socks. The fire is roaring. It’s almost too hot.” David sighs and Julia smiles. Her whole face lights up as she gives into the festiveness and melts into his arms. Besides the fire crackling and the music playing, very softly now, it’s completely quiet. No traffic, no shouting outside the window, no big city noise. He can hear the way her breath hitches and catches as his hands wander underneath the warm sweater. He pulls on the tank top beneath, curling the fabric in between his fingers as he feels bare skin. “In fact, it might be a little warm for clothes, would you agree with that?”

“Mhmmm, you’re onto something.” She whispers against his mouth, “I was feeling a bit peckish.”

“Bon appetit.” David smirks and Julia laughs as their lips meet.

He’s so gentle with her at first. There is very much the antithesis of hurry in the way he slowly removes every piece of clothing off her. 

Not rushed. 

Slow. Attentive. 

She can feel the crackling fire warm her naked back as his hands cup her bum beneath the waistband of his old, worn jogging bottoms. Pulling them slowly over the curve of her behind and her hips before it falls to the floor. Julia pulls on the belt buckle of David’s jeans as she watches the sparkle in his eyes darken. 

His heart beats faster as they watch each other. Slowly inching closer until he captures her mouth with his. Tugging on her bottom lip until she loses patience. 

His thumb grazes across a pert nipple before he cups the weight of her breast in the palm of his hand. Eyes peeking down at her with an awed, tender look as she strips them of the rest of their clothes. His pants on top of hers before his foot slides them across the floor and he kisses her with fervency. 

Her finger glides along the inside of his right thigh until she reaches her destination. An appreciative twinkle as her hand grants him a few gentle pumps before his head falls back and he sighs in a deep, satisfied mumble. Fuck, he loves her and all the ways she’s in tune with what he wants, what he needs. 

Julia’s lips curl to a smirk, satisfied with his reaction, grabbing onto his backside as she slides to her knees. Teasing him slowly. Her eyes peeled to his closed ones. But he’s impatient in the end.

Pulling himself away, leaning down to taste her lips and guiding her onto her back. It’s not exactly how she would have intended this. But she’ll allow it. His lips make a wet trail all the way from her left hip to her chest and then finally, at last, come to a stop at her right breast. His eyes meet hers. Half-open, dark and lusty as she stares down at him. The cold floor against her back causing goosebumps along milky white skin and nipples perked as he leans in and covers her breast with his mouth. Warm breath on warm skin. Her heavy breath mixed with crackles of the fire.

Their eyes finally meet again. Dark eyes watching icy blue as she leans in for a single kiss. Leaving another piece of her heart on his lips before she sighs and leans back against the cold floor. No one ever made her believe true happiness was attainable. Or that she would find it even on a cold floor underneath a Christmas tree in the Scottish highlands. 

He kisses her again. Lazily. Wrapping his fingers in her hair and doing the same to her neck. Prolonging. Waiting. Making her skin burn with want. Undoing the lazy bun, running his fingers in her hair as he writhes against her.

But he always comes back to the kiss. 

It’s how it started. And how it continues.

One forbidden kiss. Many more after it.

She wraps her arms around his neck. Breaking the kiss for a brief moment. Looking up at him. He smiles as he kisses the sharp curve of her jaw, biting it gently. He chews his lip, holds her dark gaze and then waits as she guides his glistening cock inside of her as he almost tastes blood.

She curls her leg around his thigh. Forcing him to stay close, as if being as close to her as possible isn’t his preferred state of being always. Always. Her fingers drag along his back as she urges him into her. Panting his name like a desperate prayer as they cling to each other on the floor as the soft voice of Michael Buble sounds just barely between the wooden cottage walls. 

_You can plan on me  
Please have some snow and mistletoe  
And presents by the tree  
Christmas Eve will find me  
Where the love light gleams  
I'll be home for Christmas_

“Cross that off the bucket list.” David grins brazenly as he takes the glass of water he’s being handed and holds Julia’s hand as she sits back down. She’s picked up the duvet from the bedroom on her way too, packing it around her as he sprawls like a starfish underneath her on the floor.

“Having sex under a Christmas tree?” She rests her head on his chest and sighs. “I don’t think that was even on mine.”

“I’m not trying to pressure you to love Christmas, Julia, I’m not.” David gently pushes her hair out of her face, fastening it behind her ear. Julia smiles contently, appreciative of how far he’s willing to go to make her happy. “I just want to show you that it can be nice.”

“I don’t feel pressured.” She tries to keep her face as nondescript as she possibly can. David looks at her knowingly. She could swear she used to be a better liar than this. “Well, maybe a little, but not in an entirely bad way, I promise. I didn’t think I would enjoy your monstrous tree at all, but I quite like it over there.” Her finger glides mindlessly across his chest, gently tickling him as he fiddles with a tree branch. “Ella and Charlie won’t be jealous we’ve gotten a tree without them?”

“No. And next year we’ll all decorate together.” Julia smiles at the thought. Her hair lays spread against his chest, her head resting against him and she feels peaceful, even at the thought of another Christmas with him before this one is even finished. He’s made it seem far less scary than she was preparing herself for. And there is about 100% more tree than she was anticipating.

“When I was a child, the housemaid used to put little pieces of candy on the tree. I used to love it. ”

“Well, we could do that.” David smiles, and stares at her lovingly as her lips curl at the memory. She sees him and seems surprised at his offer. “I’m sure the kids would jump at the thought. Candy on a tree? They’ll be beside themselves. Charlie might just offer to be the tree topper.”

“What’s your favorite Christmas memory?” Her question comes out with a twinge of apprehension. But what she likes about going to Scotland is that David seems easier to pry open here. The therapy has helped too. And she’s enjoying learning the little things about him. Like his apparent obsession with frogs, which she didn’t know about until today.

“The Christmas tree, I think. Every year I was a wee lad we did the same thing. We’d get a new bauble every year. We all had ones with our names on them. We had the same fights and the same things were always on the telly in the background… I tried to make a tradition with Vick and the kids too, but...” David sighs. He kisses her gently. Pressing his lips to hers before leaving a wet kiss on her chin. “I love all of Christmas. But decorating the tree, that was the beginning of everything. It felt so important and magical. Do you have one?”

“One.” David is surprised. Julia’s always made it quite clear she doesn’t have any fondness for Christmas. “Before my father died, he began losing his memories. He was quite sick, though he didn’t really look it. But you could tell if you knew him before.” Julia’s voice trails off as she stares at the starry ornament above her face. “His whole personality changed, it was almost as if he was a different person from one day to the next. He didn’t have any filter, so you never knew what he’d say or how he’d behave.” 

“I’m sorry, love.” He strokes her arm, watching her patiently. She so rarely talks about her parents to him. Though her father more so than her mother. 

Usually, about once or twice a month and always on a Sunday evening, she’ll call her mother to check in. Every time, she comes back to the sofa more agitated than when she left him. Doesn’t want to talk about it. Sometimes she’ll try to pick a fight, and he does his best not to entertain her efforts. It’s a sore spot. But there’s a softness on her face now, so he wants to see what happens if he just allows her to speak freely.

“It was awful. But still, a few of my favorite memories with him are from that time. He’d always been very strict, quite a proper gentleman, and now he would forget who he was. He would lose his temper if we spoke to him the wrong way, or become unusually affectionate. A bit like a child would, I suppose.” David half-smiles again, caressing her arm. 

Julia looks down at his fingers against her bare arm, and up at his loving and open face, and smiles. Ponders. And then takes a deep breath before she continues. “One Christmas Eve, he snuck around the house after my mother had gone to sleep. I was up late, working in my old bedroom, and I heard these odd footsteps in the hall. And he was out there on the upper terrace, a trail of candy wrappers where he’d gone, just staring at the moon. I brought him inside, because it was freezing.” She pauses again. Breathes in the memory of her father as she notices a half-moon made of paper in the tree above, next to the star. “We stayed up for hours after that. We ate his massive box of Celebrations together in my bed, under the covers with a bottle of cognac that Rob gave me as a Christmas present.” 

_Bloody Rob. Undoubtedly hoping to be invited over to the flat share it. Eejit._

“I think it was the first time I saw him as a person and not just as my father. Even if it was only a little piece of him. And I never actually knew my grandparents, even though I was named after my grandmother, but he told me about them then. He even told me how he and my mother met.” Julia chuckles. “I never knew that they’d had to run away because their marriage wasn’t desired. But they were really in love, so they’d run away to be married. They were accepted eventually, but things were never the same. I got to know him, and I never would have if it wasn’t for that night. It was as if he knew what would happen.” He nods sympathetically. Tries not to let it show how sad he feels for her. About all of it. “He passed away two days later.”

“How does that make you happy? Does it not break your heart? If my mam-”

“No, because for one night I _had_ him.” Julia shakes her and speaks firmly. Emotion dripping like tiny, invisible beads of water from her voice. “We used to be quite close when I was very little. We’d sit in the living room together before I was sent off to bed for the annual Christmas party and eat everything my mother would set out on the fireplace for Father Christmas. She did it even after I knew he wasn’t real. But something happened and one year he just didn’t come.” Voice full of regret, eyes misty with old longing. “I never knew the reason. I snuck in and saw him at the party with all the others. So I just ate everything by myself and went to bed, and when I came down in the morning he never mentioned it. And then we grew more and more distant as the years passed.”

“Aye, you’ve told me that. You didn’t even celebrate Christmas until Roger’s family, and they all treated you like the golden goose. Saver of the Penhaligon bloodline.”

“Mmhm.” He wraps her hand in his, caressing her thumb as he watches her breathe slowly. “I almost didn’t even go to have Christmas with them that year. I’d had a horrible argument with my mother over his care that summer but then at Christmas... I understood him better, and I suddenly understood my mother too. He was a lot sicker than I’d realized and for all her faults, which I will happily list for you, she did what she knew he would have wanted. So it wasn’t all bad.”

“It still sounds very sad to me, love. I’m so sorry.”

“I adored him, but in my mind he was this larger than life figure. For the last twenty years of his life, I didn’t know much about him, except that he took his work very seriously, he did what he thought he was supposed to do for his family. People would talk about him to me, and I would feel very proud to be his daughter.” David nods sympathetically. “But now I think if he felt like he’d had a choice, he would have wanted to spend a little more time with me. I think he regretted the distance. We were quite similar, I guess.”

“Hard shells, soft on the inside?” David’s eyebrow has pointedly raised to underscore his point.

“If you tell a living soul...” 

“For my ears only.” David smiles softly. He places his finger against his mouth, kisses it quickly and then rubs her nose with it. She’s still getting used to his tenderness. The aching, constant consideration and loyalty she receives from him. The kind of unconditional love that she’s not yet used to and tries to return. “I would have liked to meet him.”

“He would have hated you the moment he met you.” David gasps in fake indignation. He knows exactly what she means. “And then he would have loved you.”

“Just like his daughter, aye.” Julia sighs contently, closing her eyes and tracing the edge of David’s jaw with her finger. Yes, it would have been exactly like that. Because loving David Budd is an undeniable thing.

“I wish that he could have seen how happy I am now.”

“Maybe he’s watching somewhere, y’never know.”

“He would have hated this though. Our holiday. Far too unproductive. Almost lazy.” Julia chuckles. Her voice lowers to a whisper as she catches his gaze. “But I like it. So we’re not all the same.”

“Thank God. I don’t think I could have handled two of you.” His eyes widen in quiet resignation.

“Sometimes you can barely handle one.” David nods knowingly, smiles. Not entirely untrue. Though he’s learning to enjoy that too. The surprise. Now that there are no big secrets between them, only undiscovered facets of her to learn. 

Julia yawns and it’s instantly contagious. Her tired eyes looking up at him with a smile that reaches from ear to ear .

It must be the cold weather, or the burning fireplace, or the exhaustion deep in his bones settling in because David can feel his eyes slipping close as he lies there quietly under the tree and in the residual heat from the burned out fireplace. Julia yawns again and settles in against him. Tugging the duvet around her even closer. All he hears is the crackle of the fire until a small whisper reaches his ears. 

“I love our Christmas tree.”


End file.
